The Magician's Trick
by Saraphim's Song
Summary: A series of Oneshots for Final Fantasy VI. 4 characters so far: Edgar, Locke, Owain, Celes, Terra
1. Chapter 1: The Magician's Trick

**The Magician's Trick **

When it first began, when all this started, I didn't believe in it… magic that is. There are reasons for this, of course, there are always reasons. When I was younger, about twelve, a magician came to our castle to entertain me and my brother.

He entered into the main hall with flash and flair, pulling coins, and other various trinkets, out of the air, out of hats, even out of Sabin's ears! I was, in a word, amazed, and the first thing I did when the act was finished was ask the magician how.

How did he do it? What was his secret? What method did he use? I still remember his young face breaking into a grin as he swung his arms out in a grand gesture and exclaimed,

"Why, magic of course!" Everyone laughed and clapped and he bowed grandly, but I was not laughing nor clapping. He had told me nothing.

Magic… it is in a way a strange word; a word with many meanings, a superstitious word, and a word that later on in my life would be whispered behind closed doors, and always with fear. But at that time, to me, it was something that needed to be understood.

I hounded my mother about it, but she only smiled and said the same thing the magician had said. Unsatisfied, I asked her again and again, and finally she said to me a little crossly,

"Edgar, why can't you just enjoy something without having to analyze every bit of it. You don't see Sabin in here worrying his little head over some magician's act" She left the room mumbling, "Just like his father..."

And it was true.

I was a lot like my father, and my father like me, because when my mother complained to him about my incessant inquires he finally did what I'd been asking everyone to do.

The next day the magician arrived again and entered a small room, with a table. My father sat with me as the magician laid down all his tools, and began teaching me how he did all the things he had done earlier. When he was finished all I could think to say was.

"Is that all?" The magician nodded weakly and after I had practiced a bit, he left.

I became rather good at the magicians tricks. I still use them today in the court when things get boring. I was able to use it that night when Sabin and I flipped a coin for our freedom as well, but aside from these minor commodities I could see no real value in "magic"

The only other time I thought about magic as something other than cheap parlor tricks was when my mother died a few years later. I kept wishing that I could open a closet door and somehow, magically, she would come out alive and well again. At night I would hear Sabin cry, and I would look pleadingly at the hallway, hoping against hope that mother would come in and make him stop. When she didn't, I became angry at myself for thinking she would come. I was angry, because there was nothing I could do. Nothing could bring her back. Not even magic… especially not magic.

The death of my mother was the beginning of the end for my father; it was also the time the Empire started sending emissaries to Figaro seeking an alliance. My father dealt with them reluctantly, and made no great pains to hide his contempt. I suppose that's why the Empire justified killing him, subtly, of course. At the time I was devastated, but thinking back on it now, it wasn't such a crime, my father was dying anyways.

After my father's death and Sabin's departure I focused myself entirely on my kingdom. Figaro was reduced to a puppet state, or so I had the Empire believe, it was the only way to keep their heads turned. I supported a rebellion and developed Figaro's technology. Figaro was the only thing that mattered to me, and I sacrificed everything for it, but not out of love. Out of duty perhaps, or a feeling of responsibility for others, but I didn't believe in love.

Like magic, love was hollow, an empty word. Something that you could throw out to people and know that they would take it in without question. I "loved" countless women, but it didn't mean anything. As far as I was concerned, love had died with my parents…

I didn't start believing in magic until I met her. I didn't like her. It wasn't her particularly, it was what she represented. Tales of her name and magic were constantly being whispered in my ear, and I couldn't help but be reminded of the magician when she entered into my hall in her flaming red outfit and oddly colored hair. I almost handed her over to Kefka that day, and I regret ever having that thought, but she threatened everything I had worked for, and all in the name of "magic."

During the escape on the chocobo's, when she attacked that soldier with flames that came out of her hands, I felt like someone had punched me in the gut, but even then I didn't believe. When she changed and reacted to the Esper, even then I had my reserves.  
I didn't truly believe in magic until I experienced it. When I held that small stone in my hand and felt its warmth and the strange sensation. When I made the flames come from my own hands, only then did I believe.

I thought differently of her after that. She reminded me a lot of myself, struggling in a stream of riddles for the reason, for the answers. She found them, most of them at least, and through her I found some of my own.

I watched her one night, in Mobliz, as a child began to cry. From the hallway she entered into the room and held him until he stopped crying. After the child had fallen back to sleep I watched her leave the room and cry herself. It was as if she had taken all his tears away from him. That night she made me believe again in something else, and I wanted to take that belief and make it real…

I already believed… but I still…

I wanted to experience it.


	2. Chapter 2: Fairytales

**Fairytales**

Locke believed in Fairy Tales. In his youth he could be found at his Grandmother's listening to fantastic tales of magic and monsters, beautiful princesses, brave knights, and hidden treasure just waiting to be found.

Locke believed in Fate. She was a beautiful girl with Raven hair, ebony eyes, and a smile that made all his cares fly away in the wind. He took fate by the hand and together they explored the world, until one day he watched her fall and everything in his world shattered.

Locke believed his friend who told him to leave Kohlingon, and regretted it with every being of his soul. As she lay dying in his arms she lifted her beautiful hand and caressed his tear streaked face whispering his name before she closed her eyes forever,

Locke believed in vengeance. Taking the body of his beloved he had her preserved. He left Kohlingon spitting on the grave of his friend and her parents. He'd listened to their counsel and now fate had slipped from his fingers, and it was all their fault. Locke joined the Returners; the only form of resistance against the Empire.

Locke believed in redemption. Two other women entered his life, but he could only see his loved one in them. Somehow, he convinced himself, if he protected them he would be protecting her. Then maybe he could forgive himself for his sins. Maybe their faces of gratitude would someday be her smiling back at him.

Locke believed in Miracles. He never gave up hope that someday he would bring her back. He only needed to find a way how. He read every prophecy, every revelation, and every hint of bringing souls back from the dead. The world before him was dead, but he knew that hidden in the depths of a cave, somewhere life was within his grasp.

Locke believed in dreams that came true, and as he stood over the bed holding the cracked and dimly glowing stone in his hands, he watched as his dreams came true and she opened her eyes. She smiled sadly at him.

"Locke, I've dreamed of seeing you. I wanted to hear your voice." Locke clasped her hands, his voice full of emotion.

"I'll never leave you again." He said kneeling beside her.

"Locke…." Locke looked up and she turned her head to him. "The Phoenix has given me so little time… I have to leave again soon…"

"No." Locke chocked out gripping her hand even tighter.

"But I have something to tell you…" She smiled squeezing his hand back. "Locke, with you, I was so happy. When the accident occurred, I thought only of you… and about the joy you brought me." She said even as tears fell from her face. "Locke… I'll never forget you…"

"Rachel… no…" Locke groaned moving his arms around her shoulder and holding her closer to him.

"I have to go now… I'll always love you Locke. You must now cast off the anguish you've been harboring inside for so long. Today I set your heart free! You must learn to love yourself and regain your self respect. Locke, you brought the phoenix for me to live again, but it was not meant to be. I give that gift back to you now… Phoenix! Be reborn again! And give your power to Locke!"

A rush of heat filled the room as the magicite's power filled the room. Locke let out a cry clutching at her body feeling it go limp in his arms, as it had once before. The light faded and the room became cold. Locke buried his head in her chest and cried.

"Locke…" The voice was a phantom in his ears. "Locke, they're waiting for you." The voice whispered… "She's waiting for you…"

When Locke left that room he did not believe in fairy tales, in prophecies or miracles. He believed in love in its purest form. The love she had given him.


	3. Chapter 3: Creed

**Creed**

In my room that I lived in there was a sword. It was my father's sword, and it sat on the dresser across from the bed. The funny thing about this sword however, was that father never used it. Father had many swords, but this one he kept in our room on a special stand.

When I was young I would always reach for the sword, but my mother always shooed me away from it. On occasion my father would come into the room and take the sword from its stand. I would crawl up into his lap and he would unsheathe the sword, and I would look upon its cold beauty.

"In Doma, my son," My father would always say, "Men live and die by the sword. We must honor it, and be prepared to accept its judgment at any moment. That is our way." I would nod solemnly and look at my own reflection in the blade's mirror like surface. Then my father would sheath the sword reverently and the tension would break. Mother would kiss him on the cheek, and I'd cover my face from their affection.

I loved my father, and I dreamed of one day becoming just like him. I studied the way of the sword diligently, and prepared myself to accept its judgment, so when the time came I would be ready.

But when the time came I was not ready. It was early morning and mother and I were in bed. A foul smell came into the room, and my mother began coughing. She left the bed in agitated jerks, each one punctuated by her horrible coughs. I was scared and pulled the covers close to me. I too began to cough. It was rough, and it hurt me deep in the chest.

Mother reached the window and threw it open. She tried to scream, but the only sound that issued forth was a strangled gargle as she chocked on her own vomit. She began convulsing on the floor until she finally became still. I began to cry, the burning hurt my lungs, and I was scared to breath, but I tried calling out to my mother anyways. I breathed deep for another yell, but the air was fire in my throat. I coughed and retched and finally collapsed back into the bed.

I lay there covered in vomit, and coughing up blood, but I couldn't take my eyes off the sword. It stood there unaffected by my unseen enemy.

As I lay there I wanted to scream. "In Doma, men live and die by the sword…" but all I could think was,

"Where's the sword?"


	4. Chapter 4: Float Away

**Float Away**

_"__Jump."_

"Don't be stupid."

_"__It's not stupid though, when you really think about it."_

"No… I guess not, but I can't."

_"__Why not? You'll die here anyways."_

"I know… but… they might find me."

_"__You shouldn't hope for so much. It's been a year already anyways…"_

"Yeah…"

_"__So… jump."_

"I can't. It's irrational, and what about the people who need me?

_"__There's nothing you can do to help now… look what happened to Cid."_

"… What if Locke is looking for me?

_"__What if Locke's dead."_

"No, I don't want to hear that."

_"__Locke doesn't trust you. You betrayed him, even if he was alive why would he be looking for you?"_

"I thought… He said he'd protect me…"

_"__Listen to yourself. It's disgusting. You saw the way he pined over that girl. You know the only reason he saved you was because he was trying to assuage his own guilt. He did the same thing to Terra, and didn't Edgar try to warn you."_

"I know… I know! I can't believe I fell for…but…"

_"__How could he ever love you anyways, after what you've done? Do you think he'll really forget your betrayal, or worse, Maranda?"_

"No… not Maranda… Maybe… I should..."

_"__Do it."_

"…will it hurt?"

_"__No… I think the impact should be enough."_

"I'm scared…"

_"__Don't be scared… just…"_

"Jump."

Celes opened her eyes slowly trembling in the cold dawn. The waters of the surf washed over her with warm liquid, swaddling her against the biting cold of the winds and beckoning her gently, but persistently back into their depths.

She cracked her eyes open, feeling the sand on her eyelashes fall onto her face, and coughed. The wind, mingled with the sound of the surf, howled in her ears, and the pain slowly began to creep into her body. She opened her eyes wider and stared blankly ahead, overwhelmed by the impact of her actions. Rolling over onto her back, she began to tremble as tears fell from her eyes. She became aware of something wet in her hands which she held close to her chest. Sitting up slowly she opened her hand to see a bracelet adorned with tiny little feathers, and felt her stomach drop sickeningly. The surf rose gently to her open hand and the bracelet floated away sinking into the dark waters.

Celes scrambled out of the waters as the sea buried her shame. Stumbling to the cliff she sat down holding herself and looking desperately at the bleak landscape.

_"__Coward."_

"I know!" Celes yelled in anguish covering her lowered head with fingers brittle from the cold; trying to find protection from the demons she knew she could never escape.

A/N: In case you weren't sure, the bracelet with feathers was a cherub down.


	5. Chapter 5: Stolen

**Stolen**

"A kiss," Katarin was telling me, "is one of the best things in the world." She leaned back on the bed smiling in a dreamy fashion. I had returned to questioning people about love, not because I doubted the love of my children, but because I perceived that the love between Duane and Katarin was entirely different, and oddly familiar.

"Yes, but what does it feel like?" I asked. Katarin sat up and looked at me oddly.

"You've never kissed anyone before?" She asked. I shook my head and she started giggling.

"You spent all that time with all those handsome men and you never stole a kiss?" I shook my head again making her laugh louder, and I felt oddly dismayed.

"What do you mean steal a kiss?" I asked.

"When you still a kiss its kind of like, well, like it sounds like. It's just a kiss that you're stealing." She grinned at me and I frowned.

"You just take it?" I asked confused.

"Sure, if you think he won't mind. Most guys love it when you do, and the nice thing is, well, it doesn't have to mean anything unless you both want it to." She smiled happily. "It's just a kiss."

It's just a kiss. Perhaps I'd been confused about kisses or just about affection in general. Edgar kissed my hand a lot, and one time Locke had kissed my forehead, but those didn't seem to imply the same things Katarin had. Her idea of stealing a kiss seemed down right mischievous. Duane always complained that Katarin was a little too forward for her own good, but he always said so with a smile.

I could only think of one person I would want to steal a kiss from. If I had to experience it for the first time, I knew I wanted it to be him, but he had not been to visit in a long time, so amidst all the chores and children, I forgot all about stealing kisses.

A few months from my conversation with Katarin, I was surprised to see him at my door. He stayed for a few days and during this time stealing kisses was all I could think about, but when the time came for him to leave nothing had transpired, and I had started to panic. I was losing my only chance.

As he was turning to leave I called out to him and he turned back. I closed the space between us and pressed my lips against his, waiting for that wonderful feeling Katarin had spoken of, but it didn't come. I pulled back trying to hide the disappointment and fear.

"Terra, what are you doing?" He asked unsure whether to smile or not.

"I'm stealing a kiss." I said. "It doesn't have to mean anything." I added hastily biting my lip.

His face broke into a grin as he wrapped me in his arms and pulled me close to him. His lips came to mine and something deep and warm stirred in my stomach. He held me close to him and kissed me. At first it was soft and gentle, but it became firmer as we both leaned into the kiss. When it was over he pulled away smiling.

"Never steal from a thief." He said.


End file.
